Зима тревоги нашей

           Canamanthinkouthislife,ormusthejusttagalong?

           SomanynightsIhavelainawake,hearingmyMary’slittlepurringbesideme.Ifyoustareintodarkness,redspotsstartswimmingonyoureyes,andthetimeislong.MarysoloveshersleepthatIhavetriedtoprotectherinit,evenwhentheelectricitchburnedonmyskin.ShewakensifIleavethebed.Itworriesher.Becauseheronlyexperiencewithsleeplessnesshasbeeninillness,shethinksIamnotwell.

           ThisnightIhadtogetupandout.HerbreathpurredgentlyandIcouldseethearchaicsmileonhermouth.Maybeshedreamedofgoodfortune,ofthemoneyIwasabouttomake.Marywantstobeproud.

           Itisoddhowamanbelieveshecanthinkbetterinaspecialplace.Ihavesuchaplace,havealwayshadit,butIknowitisn’tthinkingIdothere,butfeelingandexperiencingandremembering.It’sasafetyplace—everyonemusthaveone,althoughIneverheardamantellofit.Secret,quietmovementoftenawakensasleeperwhenadeliberatenormalactiondoesnot.AlsoIamconvincedthatsleepingmindswanderintothethoughtsofotherpeople.Icausedmyselftoneedthebathroom,andwhenitwasso,gotupandwent.AndafterwardIwentquietlydownstairs,carryingmyclothes,anddressedinthekitchen.

           MarysaysIshareotherpeople’stroublesthatdon’texist.Maybethatisso,butIdidseealittlepossiblesceneplayoutinthedim-lightedkitchen—Maryawakeningandsearchingthehouseforme,andherfacetroubled.